


Walking Down This Road

by de_klaire



Category: Ironman, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt Peter Parker, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker has PTSD, Peter Parker is a Mess, Poor Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23059201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/de_klaire/pseuds/de_klaire
Summary: When an unexpected accident happens during a routine mission, Peter is left paralyzed from the waist down. Helped along by Tony he must relearn what his role in life is, and figure out how to continue.-More Chapters Coming-
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 15
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

It all happened too fast. Tony, holding fast to the string of web tied tightly around Peter’s waist. Peter, being slowly lowered down from the helicopter towards the school bus hovering on the edge of a cliff. Slowly but surely lifting each of the kids back to safety. 

“Come on kiddo, you can trust me.” Peter said encouragingly, even as he eyed the crumbling cliff side, anxiety filling his stomach while the senses at the base of his school screamed for him to get out of there. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

The kid reached a shaking hand out and Peter took it, lifting him up through the top hatch. He took one of the webs hanging from above, securing it around the kid’s waste. “Alright, hold on tight kid, they’re gonna lift you up.” The kid’s lips lifted into a trembling smile.

“Thanks, spiderman.” Peter’s face broke into a smile. 

“Any time, bud. Alright guys, you can lift him up now.” He watched as the boy’s body was lifted high above him, before being pulled into the waiting helicopter above.

“Alright kid, you ready?” Peter rolled his eyes at Tony’s voice. How the man could still call him kid while on life-risking mission Peter would never be able to understand.

“Let me do one last check of the bus.” 

“Hurry it up, that think is getting more unstable by the second.”

“Just give me two minutes, I need to be sure we didn’t miss anyone.” Peter only took one step, but that was all it took. With a jolt the bus lurched, teetered, and went weightless. 

Peter felt himself floating, watching above him as the line attaching him to the helicopter went slack, and then pulled taught, arching his back as he cried out. Where his body stopped mid air the inside of the bus came to meet his form. His super hearing caught the faint snap of the rope and he was falling agian, now pressed against the side of the bus that was now facing the sky. He looked out the window at the clouds that were getting further and further away. 

The seconds stretched out long, and a strange peace washed over Peter’s body. It was almost like he was flying, no, swinging. Completely weightless for that one precious moment between buildings, right before a web shot from his wrist, allowing him to control the descent. The control never came.

A horrible screeching sound filled Peter’s ears and he was thrown down before sliding towards the front of the bus, which was tilted downards. They were sliding for a few moment, and Peter thought that the worst just might be over. Peter was wrong. Because it was only moments before the bus began rolling, throwing Peter back and fourth betwen the walls, each impact sending a new wave of pain through his body, cracking a new bone or bruising his skin. 

The wall got steeper and the bus went back into free falling, turning over itself vertically. Peter could hear the frantic shouting of Mr. Stark in his ear but his mouth couldn’t find words, inhibited by shock or injury. 

The bus hit the ground, throwing Peter against one of the seats, and for one pain free moment Peter blacked out. 

\---

Tony couldn’t breathe. He felt the line pull taught in his hands, before becoming weightless in a single moment. He watched the bus fall 50 feet, hitting a slope that is slid down for just a few moments, before falling another 25 feet into the ravine below. He could hear himself screaming into the coms but he didn’t even know what he was saying. 

Unrelenting panic was surging through his sytem, begging him to move whilst paralyzing him. “Peter?” He chokes out, waiting for a response that never came. He forced his body into action, letting the suit take over, flying him towards the smoldering bus.

He landed with a clang, staring at the bright yellow vehicle, which had been turned onto its side. It was half crushed, the insides of the walls meeting in some places. He climbed up, onto the side facing the sky. He scanned the wreckage, a window allowing him a glimpse of red and blue pinned by a broken seat.

“Pete, can you hear me.”

“Y-yeah.” The kid sounded breathless, like he wasn’t getting in enough air. “Th-this fee-feels really b-b-b-a.” A round of wheezed coughs cut off the sentence.

“Okay, bud, it’s alright. Don’t worry, I’m going to you out, just… Just give me a second to figure it out.” Tony clenched his jaw as he looked desperately for a way in. This didn’t seem like something he could figure out. “Fri, what’s our game plan?” 

“The medical evacuation team is on their way, boss. Your best plan of action would be to wait for them.” Tony listened more closely to the labored breathing coming over his com.

“Yeah, that isn’t gonna work for me. What’s plan B?”

“Moving Peter without proper equipment and immediate medical care could lead to long term injuries and potential death.” Tony cursed under his breath. 

“Peter, sound like we’re going to have to play a little waiting game, alright?” The hand visible to Tony formed a shaking thumbs up. “Alright, just a little longer, Pete. We’ll get you out of this.”

“Mr. Stark?” A series of coughs cut him off.

“Don’t try to talk, kiddo.”

“Mr. St-St-Stark.” Peter’s voice trembled but seemed determined to get out it’s next words.

“What is it, Pete?”

“I c-can’t feel my-my-my l-legs.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very unedited, but I hadn't posted in awhile and really wanted to upload. Hopefully you'll enjoy!

Tony had never felt more helpless in his life. He was the one who went straight into the disaster and fixed everything, even if things got a little banged up on the way. But in that moment, if anything, he felt in the way. Once they’d cut away the main structure of the bus Tony had been by Peter’s side, clinging to the kid’s hand desperately. Anything to feel some amount of control.

“Pete, I think I’m gonna have to let go now.” Peter’s eyes flicked towards Tony, one pupil blown. He strained to look at him from where his head was braced and velcroed down to a stiff bored. The sight made Tony feel sick to his stomach. 

“No, Mr. Stark. I need you here, don’t let go.” His eyes flicked down to his broken body. “Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving Peter,” He reached to run his fingers through Peter’s hair only to have a medic knock it away. “I just need to get out of their way so they can take care of you.” 

Despite the reasurrances, despite the fact that Peter releases Tony’s hand, he can tell that the kid is terrified. The desperate words still rung in Tony’s ears. “I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel my legs.” The man shook his head hard, as if this would shake the thoughts loose. 

Once Tony took a few steps back everything seemed to go into hyper speed. Before he could blink people were surrounding the red-and-blue clad frame, taking vitals and stablizing his spine. Every part of Peter’s body that could be strapped down to the plastic, bright orange board, was promptly done so with thick velcro. “Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice hesitantly rang out from the wall of people between the two. 

“I’m still here, Pete.”

“Okay.” The answer was short, cut off by a dozen different doctors asking both of them a million questions. Tony tried to focus, tried to explain what had happened to the evacuation team. Despite his best efforts, his mind kept wandering to the feelings of rope in his hand, all of the tension suddenly gone. The bright yellow bus tumbling down the side of the ravine. 

“eter’s blood type?” Tony blinked at the woman standing in front of him, eyes intense and fixed on his face. 

“Um, what?”

“Do you know Peter’s blood type?” She replied curtly.

“Uh, Friday?”

“He’s O negative, boss.” How hadn’t Tony known that? Tony was O negative too. After the final battle with Thanos, Peter had donated his own blood. No one knew what would happen, if it would drastically help Tony’s healing, or kill him, but they’d had no other choices. He’d just never put it together. Tony ran a finger over his shoulder’s armor, suddenly very aware of the place where his flesh met robotic prosthetic.

“Stark?” The woman’s eyes were still on him, not impatient, but intent on getting the information.

“He’s O negative.” She began to walk away but then his frozen brain caught up with why woman had been asking. “You can’t give him someone else’s blood. It’ll slow down his healing.” She quirked an eyebrow at the remark.

“I assume you have another solution for me, then?” He nodded jerkily.

“We have a supply, back at the compound. Shouldn’t you… Shouldn’t you know that already?” He ran through the list of people in his mind that had worked on Peter before. They were hand picked, trained, knew Peter’s case inside and out. “Aren’t you on his medical team?”

She looked at the bus. “They called me in last minute. They needed… an extra set of hands.” Tony could feel his throat close up at the words, making the air difficult to breathe. That was her way of saying that this was bad. “Thank you for your help.” Just like that she was gone, rejoining the pack of people surrounding Peter’s body. 

Tony stayed close, trying to move out of the way of doctors. Responding to Peter when he called out to reaffirm that his mentor was still there. After what felt like hours they were piling into a helicopter, being lifted into the air. 

With Peter’s vitals and spine temporarily stablized Tony was aloud to sit at the head of the back board, speaking in quiet tones. He wanted desperately to run his fingers through that mop of curls, but multiple doctors had yelled at him when he’d tried. Something about not moving his neck. 

“Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah, bud?” 

“I’m scared.”

Tony closed his eyes against the tears threatening to come. He forced his voice into an upward lilt, trying not to scare the trembling kid in front of him.

“Well, that’s pretty dumb, cause there’s nothing to be scared of. A genius like you doesn’t know that? I mean, come on, kid.” A smile pulled at Peter’s lips without reaching his eyes.

“I still can’t feel my legs.” Tony swallowed back his fear.

“Nothing a little super-healing won’t fix, right?” Peter stayed silent, no one answering the question that hung heavy in the air. No one ever did.

\---

“Tony, are you okay?” Pepper’s voice came through the receiver, hushed and scared. 

“Yeah, Pep.” With the confirmation the worried voice of his wife quickly turned to one of anger. 

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours! Do you know how worried I was?” Her voice cracked over the last words, the fire quickly dying behind her anger. “Where have you been?” She repeated.

“I’m at the hospital.” A sharp intake of breath was followed by quick footsteps and the sound of drawers banging open.

“I thought you said you were okay! I’ll get Morgan a babysitter, which hospital are you at, I’ll be right there.” Tony let her ramble on a little longer, allowing her to blow off some steam while he tried to collect his scattered thoughts. Long moments stretched on before her voice finally stilled. “Tony?” Her voice was tight, filled with worry.

“Pep… It’s Peter.” The line went quiet, and Tony slumped into one of the waiting room chairs. He dropped his head into his hands. “He just… I couldn’t…” Tears sprung to his eyes, his throat closing up.

“Is he…” She hesitated, the words ringing through the air, even unspoken.

“No. No, they have him in surgery now.” He could hear her let out the breath she’d been holding. 

“Have you called May?” He clamped his eyes shut. 

“Crap, May, I didn’t even think about-”

“Well don’t, it’s okay, I’ll call her.” He wanted to protest, wanted to say it was his own fault and he should have to give the news that Peter was in a surgery he may never come out of. He didn’t have the energy or words to do it though, so he let Pepper hang up, the line clicking and going silent. 

“Please be okay, kid. Please be okay.” 

\---

An hour later a paniced May, still dressed in her scrubs from her night shift, rushed into the waiting room. Tony stood to meet her.

“Tony? Is he okay? What happened?” She gripped his forearms, her eyes pleading with him. “Is Peter okay?”

Tony stayed quiet for a moment, and her eyes grew wide, filling with tears. He forced his mouth to move. “He’ still in surgery.” Her chin fell to her chest in relief, then she burrowed her face into Tony’s chest.

The moment was much too normal these days, and Tony wrapped his arms around her by muscle memory alone. 

“How did he seem? After it happened?” Tony stills at the question. Images of Peter strapped down to the back board behind his eyes, those awful words ringing in his ears. I can’t feel my legs, I can’t feel my legs, I can’t feel my legs.

“I don’t know, May. I just don’t know.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter for all of you looking for enterainment while in quarantine, let me know what you think!

“Did you feel that?” Peter glanced to May. Her lips faltered momentarily, before pulling up into a shaky smile. Was that supposed to be encouraging? He looked back to the doctor, who was prodding his foot with a long metal tip. 

“I, uh, I’m not sure.” The doctor nodded. 

“Okay, let’s try again.” He touched the metal back to Peter’s foot. A beep sounded through the air, high and metallic, signaling the small electric shock he should have been feeling. His foot didn’t move, no muscles even twitched. What he did feel was the sinking feeling in his chest.

“How about that?” Peter just shook his head, afraid his voice would betray him. He was so tired of crying.

Tony laid a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder, heavy and warm. The weight of it steadied the agitated tingling in Peter’s finger tips. “But the feeling might still come back, right?” The doctor paused, silence drawing out, long and awkward.

“It’s… Possible, yes. With Peter’s unique healing ability there is a small possibility that the damage to his spinal cord could be reversed.”

“Small?” Peter asked before he could stop himself.

“Possible.” May’s voice didn’t have the question in it, steady with mock confidence. “It’s possible.” Her eyes bore into him, as if she was trying to figure out whether he believed her. Peter just leaned into her side, tucking his head between her chin and shoulder blade.

“Can we be done now?” He asked, breathing in the scent of her cherry-vanilla perfume.

“Of course, bud.” Tony was quick to say. “Doc? I’ll walk you out.” Peter realized that the doctor didn’t know about his enhanced hearing when the man began talking as soon as he was out of the door. 

“Don’t you think we should be more realistic with him? I mean, even with the advanced healing no one has ever recovered from such extensive-” 

“Shut up!” Tony’s voice was in a harsh whisper, but Peter could still pick up on the words. “Aren’t you supposed to be an expert on his case? He can still hear you! Follow me.” Their footsteps trailed out of advanced earshot. 

“May?”

“Yeah, Pete?” 

“What am I going to do?” His voice shook with the tears rising in his throat. 

She pulled away so she could look him squarely in the eyes. “Well, first of all, get that ‘I’ crap out of here, this is a ‘we’ situation, okay?” Peter smiled a little, nodding as he swiped at the tears that had begun to track down his face. “And we’re going to do what we always do. We’re going to stick together,” She hugged him close again. “And we’re going to figure it out. 

\---

Peter squirmed, grunting as he tried to pull away from the sensors the newest doctor was putting up and down his torso. He recognized the woman from the crash. She’d been the one to hold his hand the first time they’d moved him. She still had two fingers taped together. Tony had said she’d been hand picked, but she’d had as little progress as all the other specialists who’d come to see him. Of course, she had also broken the record for how long she’d gone without giving up. So far, almost two weeks.

“Hold still, kid.” Tony said, voice stunted with effort. He was trying to plug in the last wire to the sticky pads the woman had attached to Peter’s chest, and a sheen of sweat had begun to glisten on his forehead. Peter was acutely aware that the tremors had set into the older man’s bad shoulder. 

“It hurts.” Peter snapped back. Tony’s eyes shot up, locking on Peter and scanning the boy’s body as if looking for new wounds. Peter sunk further into the sheets covering his lap, suddenly aware of just how bare his chest was.

“Where, Pete? We’ll adjust it, just give me a sec.”

“Just… Not that.” Peter looked away, blinking hard to banish the tears from his eyes. Frustration was settling deep into his bones. Even though he knew they were trying to help, every prod and poke sent new irritation running through his mind. Tony sighed, shoulders slumping as if a weight had settled there. 

“Look, kid… I know you’re tired, but you gotta work with me here.”

“Can’t we just take a break?” Peter’s voice hitched, betraying the tears he was trying so hard to hide. In an instant Tony was by his side, carding calloused fingers through tangled curls. 

“We’re trying to help you here, bud.” 

“I know, but it’s uncomfortable, and that doctor says-”

“That doctor is still living in the stone age of medicine.” The woman’s voice, heavy with Australian accent, cut straight through Peter’s thought process. “We have no idea how your body may react to the injury. I know it feels too soon, but we’ve already lost days of progress, and the information we gather here may be time sensitive to healing your spinal cord.” Peter couldn’t argue very well with that. The woman’s eyes bore straight through him, strikingly dark and a few shades lighter than her skin. He opened his mouth to say he didn’t care what she said, but her eyes narrowed and he shut his jaw tight.

“Yeah… Yeah, okay.” Peter finally muttered out. Tony looked between the two of them, eyes narrowing.

“Give me five, doc?” She nodded, knees popping beneath her as she stood with a groan.

“Take all the time you need.” She walked with very little elegance, but the way she held her broad shoulder straight made up for it. The door closed with a quiet click. 

“Alrighty, underoos, what’s up?” Peter looked at the cast on his wrist. It was covered in drawings. Funny cartoons that Clint had sketched there, beautifully delicate flowers of Natasha’s workmanship. Wanda had somehow transformed the area nearest to his knuckles into a mountain range, trees peppering the landscape and a sketched river running from between his thumb and pointer finger. He stared intently at the landscape, wishing he could be there instead. Or anywhere but here, really.

“What’d you mean?” Tony scoffed, his eyes rolling dramatically. He put a finger beneath Peter’s chin, lifting it so they were face-to-face again. 

“You never back down from a challenge, Bambino, so I don’t get why you’re giving up now.” Peter’s doe eyes looked back at the face turned up into a smile.

“I can’t feel my legs.” The older man visibly flinched at the words. “It’s like they aren’t even there.”

“We might be able to fix that, though.”

“But we might not.”

“We’ll figure something else out, then”

“You don’t get it.” Tony was thrown by the kid’s tone of voice, eyes round as they blinked back at Peter. “I help people, it’s what I do. And now… Now people are gonna follow me around for the rest of my life, pushing me around in a wheelchair and getting things off of high shelves for me.” His voice was quickly dissolving into sobs, his breath hitching when it came in short puffs. “I help people, and now I’m going to be the one needing help.” He clutched at Tony’s shirt. “I’m losing him. I’m losing Spiderman. I’m losing me.”

The kid collapsed into himself, his entire body trembling sporatically, his breaths unpredictable and harsh.

“Oh, Pete.” Tony gathered him up, holding the boy tightly against his chest. 

“I can’t feel my legs, Mr. Stark.”

“I know.”

“I can’t feel my legs.”

“It’s okay.”

“I can’t feel my legs.”

“You’re going to be alright.”

\---

“I can’t, okay!” The physical therapist frowned, looking to Tony like they always did when Peter yelled. “And stop looking at him, I can speak for myself.” He growled out between gritted teeth.

“Peter-”

“Stop!” Peter leaned down, attempting to undo the thick straps around his waist. “I can’t do it, so just stop!” 

Tony shared a look with May, which only made Peter’s blood boil all the more. “Pete, baby, just… Try it one more time.” A week ago May’s comment may have softened the hardness of the boy’s voice, but now it had the opposite effect. He tried to undo the straps again, before throwing his hands up when he couldn’t.

“Would you just get these off of me!” The physical therapist was quick to undo them, while Tony sighed and sat back in the chair beside Peter’s work bench. 

“The sooner you get the strength in your core back, the sooner we can start working on your mobility.” The therapist said gently, unclipping the last strap that was holding Peter down. He was supposed to be fighting the resistance to sit up from lying down without assistance. But how was he supposed to do that when he couldn’t even hold himself up in a chair most days?

“It’s pointless.” Peter insisted, wishing he could storm out, or even pull himself into the wheelchair that sad beside the bench. “This shouldn’t even be an issue, I’m strong, I’ve been strong since the bight.”

“They had to cut your abdominal muscles during the surgery, you just need to put in the work to gain your strength bacl.” Peter rolled his eyes, tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

“But what’s the point?”

“The point is for you to be able to get around on your own, start getting your independence back.” Tony spoke up this time.

“But what’s the point.” Tony sighed, and Peter knew that the older man was getting tired of hearing the same things over again, too. 

“Bud, we’ve been over this.” The man rubbed at his eyes, taking measured breaths. 

“You just don’t get it! I told you once without my suit I was nothing. You know how much this means to me.”

“And when I took the suit away you lifted a building off of yourself and took down a plane.” Peter couldn’t help but loosen his furrowed brow at Tony’s own exasperated smirk. “We’re gonna figure this out too.”

“But what if we don’t?”

“We will.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. You'd think if I was stuck in my house all day, I might actually get out updates more often. Unfortuntely, I'm as lazy as ever. But to make up for it this is an extra long one! Thank you for all this kind words you've been leaving! Comments are genuinly the biggest motivators for me, so if you want more chapters, you know what to do ;) Enjoy!

“Don’t touch me!” Peter pulled his wrist back harshly, his eyes hot with angry tears. 

“Mr. Parker, if you will please relax.”

“No! Where’s Tony and May?” He huffed, pulling away when the doctor reached for his wrist again.

“Miss. Parker has gone home to rest and Mr. Stark is on an emergency mission. They have both been contacted. Now your arm, please.” The man, who hadn’t worked with Peter in the last month since he’d been in the hospital, was holding a ridiculously large needle. He’d barged in, waking Peter up abruptly, and began attempting to take blood for testing. At one in the Thor-loving-morning!

“That’ll be a no.” Peter growled through his teeth, pushing the nurse call button for the third time in the last minute. 

“Mr. Parker, you have a fever,” The man was glarily, clearly irritated at not getting his way more quickly. “We need to be certain you aren’t getting an infection. If you’d like to make this more complicated I can have someone come and hold you down.” Peter blanched at this. Tony would have fired the man on the spot if he’d heard that. 

But Peter did feel woozy, and he was suddenly aware of the way the room was spinning. On the other hand that needle was big, and this stranger was beginning to raise his voice, and Peter was beginning to ache for May and Stark. “Where’s my Aunt and Mr. Stark?”

“Mr. Stark and Ms. Parker have been alerted to your condition and are on their way, now if you’ll please-” The fresh tears now brewing in Peter’s eyes were interrupted by the bang of the door flying open. In a whirl of red hair, worry, and red hot anger Pepper was there. 

“Pete, honey, are you okay?” She paid no attention to the doctor, who was now waving his arms in exasperation. Instead, she strode straight to Peter’s side, holding her hand to his forehead and frowning at whatever she felt there. “Has Doctor Smith been called?” She turned on the man, who went very pale very quickly.

“Well, I didn’t deem it necessary to-” Peter’s couldn’t see the expression on Pepper’s face, but it had stopped the man dead in his tracks. “Yes, I’ll, um, contact her right away.” He left the room hastily as Pepper turned back to the bed, her eyes only filled with concern.

“How you feeling?” She ran a hand through his hair and he closed his eyes at the comfort the touch brought.

“I’m fine. Who’s with Morgan?”

“Rhodey.” This made Peter’s eyes pop open. 

“Uncle Rhodey’s back?” He tried to count how many months the man had been in Wakanda, acting as an ambassador for the United States. Pepper smiled in that knowing way that made Peter’s heart sink. 

“He’s back, and can’t wait to see you.” A fresh wave of heat ran over Peter’s face that had nothing to do with his fever. He didn’t want Rhodey to see him like this. Weak and helpless. After all, the man had come back from a back injury and Peter had never heard him complain. 

His shame, however, would have to wait, because Doctor Smith was in the room now. She’d obviously been woken up, her scrubs wrinkled and her dark curls just barely restrained by a pony tail that sat low on her head. 

“Peter, how we feeling?” Right to the point as usual, she was walking around in a whirlwind, checking machines and holding a stethoscope over Peter’s chest. 

“Been better.” He responded, and both of the women’s heads snapped over at the mear idea of Peter, who had self preservation skills worse than Tony’s, admitting to being sick. 

“Okay, well let’s see what we can do about that.” Doctor Smith said, grabbing a packet with a needle from a metal tray beside him. 

“Again with the needles,” He mumbled, but this time didn’t bother putting up a fight. That was, until Pepper looked at her phone, which was ringing a tune far too chipper for this time of night, and began to walk away. Peter’s hand shot out, making a grab for her sleeve. Her eyes turned on him, wide with surprise.

“Peter, what’s-”

“Please don’t leave me.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, fast and desperate. With a frown, Doctor Smith reached for a thermometer. 

“Open up.” He did as he was told, but kept his eyes locked on Pepper, assuring that she hadn’t left. She picked up the phone, and he could hear Tony’s voice on the other end.

“Is he okay?” Hello’s were not in Tony’s vocabulary when it came to Peter’s well veing.

“Doctor Smith is here.” Pepper replied.

“But is he okay?” The man sounded close to tears, and Peter suddenly had an overwhelming feeling that he shouldn’t have been listening in. 

“They’re running some tests but I’m with him now, Tony. I’m sure everything is going to be alright.”

Pepper’s words didn’t seem to calm the older man much, but the smooth confidence acted as a cooling balm to Peter’s fear. The wrinkles smoothed out of his forehead. Meanwhile, Doctor Smith clucked at the number on the thermometer.

Several nurses came to the room after that, setting up an IV line and reconnecting Peter to wires that had long been removed. Pepper kept her hand steady in his as they filled several vials with blood, whisking them away for testing.

Peter glanced over to Pepper, who’d hung up the phone and was now running soothing fingers through his curls. She was humming like she did for Morgan when the girl was sick. The motherly feel to it made Peter want to close his eyes and fall asleep, knowing that she would take care of him. For just a moment, he did close his eyes, allowing himself to pretend that Pepper really was his mom, and he had nothing to worry about. He just had the flu, and she would take care of him.

“Eyes open, kid.” The day dream should have been broken by Tony’s voice, speaking firmly, but with kindness behind the words. Instead, he allowed Tony to become part of the fantasy. Allowing himself to believe that these were his parents, and he was their kid, and everything was fine.

“Mis-r St-ar-k.” The letters came our slurred and broken, as if his brain could only create them in bits and pieces.

“Yeah, Pete, I’m here.” Mr. Stark’s words were hazy too, and Peter had to strain to hear them, as if someone had stuffed cotton into his ears. “Kid, you with me?” Tony’s face was full of concern. While Peter gazed at him grey began filling in the edges of his vision, white spots dancing around the lights of the room.

An alarm was going off on one of the machines, and more people were filing into the room, Pepper and Tony being pushed away from him. 

“W-a-it.” The letter’s came out broken again. Peter wished they’d turn that noise off so he could just think for a second. His vision pulsed with the pounding in his head. Soon, the greys and whites in his vision turned to black.

\---

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I thought this was all fixed.” Tony was gripping onto the handles of his chair, as if they were the only thing holding him to the earth.

“A bleed was missed by the prior medical team,” Doctor Smith was kneeling to be at eye level with the man, who couldn’t quite seem to breathe. “While we were still working on the issue, his stomach was corroded by the unique platelets in his blood and began leaking bile into his system.”

“But that- I mean he- oh my-” Tony gave up on words, dropping his head into his hands. Pepper brushed her finger tips over his shoulders, anchoring him from the edging panic attack. 

“Will he be okay?” Pepper, ever confident and calm, now had a shake in her voice. 

“He will…” Tony could sense the ‘but’ there. “This will set back his progress significantly. His abdominal strength will be even weaker than before, and he’ll have to have a ventilator and feeding tube put in, which will hinder his ability to continue physical therapy.”

Tony wanted to reach out to May, who had fallen onto her knees, shoulder racking with sobs. The woman had been so strong for him, and he knew he should be there now. Yet, his body felt like it was caving in on itself. He couldn’t seem to access the strength to move. As Pepper’s hand left his back, going to comfort May, reality seemed to shift somewhat. He was surrounded by images of the last harrowing month. How broken Peter was, even now as he’d begun to get his strength back. Tony doubted his own ability to go through it all again, much less Peter, who was just a kid. 

Hesitantly, the doctor continued. “We can’t be sure of the damage this will cause to his system. Unfortunately, we can’t put him on his pain medication without knowing what side effects it may cause.” All the air left Tony’s lungs in a single whoosh. 

“But won’t it all…” Hurt, was the word he found, but it didn’t seem to exhibit the enormity of what he was trying to say.

“Unfortunately Peter will be in severe pain. We would prefer to have kept him under until he was mostly healed, but the amount of anesthesia required for his metabolism would make it dangerous to keep him asleep more than strictly necessary.”

“Aren’t there other options?” Pepper spoke up from where she held a shaking May in her arms. “Other medications you could give him to keep him asleep?”

The doctor winced. “We have Bruce and Shuri working around the clock on something safe for Peter, but we haven’t found anything yet.”

Tony stayed slumped in that chair for a long time, not acknowledging the tears that ran down his face. 

At some point Pepper pulled him to standing, and he numbly allowed her to lead him down a hallway and onto a cot. He laid there while she ran her fingers through his unwashed hair, humming the same tune she did when Morgan couldn’t sleep. He never slept.

\---

Peter didn’t ache. His body didn’t sting or throb, or pound. It burned. He opened his mouth to scream but something burned in his throat, choking him as he tried to gasp for air and realized he couldn’t. His lungs were inflating and deflating without his consent, sinking with the unnatural hiss of some machine nearby.

Something lay in his nose, joining the other tube in his throat to burn straight through his esophagus to his stomach. His stomach burned like nothing had burned before. 

His entire abdomen burned with licks of fire. His skin burned in a straight line down his stomach, going from his chest all the way to his waist. It felt like someone had opened him up and poured hot oil inside of his body, burning through his stomach, and intestines, and every other organ that it could seep into. 

His ears burned too, overloaded by every beep from the machines around him, the electricity that ran through the walls, the person who coughed two hallways down. His eyes refused to open, light burning behind them as well. He moaned and his lungs, and throat, and mouth all burned in pulsing, fiery agony. 

He could feel the needle in his skin, feel the IV run into his veins and through his body. Hear the steady drip, drip, drip that made him want to scream. 

“Pete?” Peter wanted to cry out at the noise, but he knew the voice, and wanted nothing more than for Tony to keep talking. Despite the warnings running up his spine of just how badly this would burn, he peeled one open just slightly, to squint at the man above him. He couldn’t focus on anything, the searing heat of his body too much to let him. He made a noise around the tube sticking down his throat, tears running out of the corner of his eyes at the pain it caused. 

“Shh, don’t try to talk. You’ve got a ventilator in.” Tony looked close to tears himself, but he held it together, running his calloused fingers through Peter’s hair.

Ventilator. The word ran loud in Peter’s ears. Through the fog of his mind he could remember what had happened before, however long ago it had been. A fever. A tiny little fever and now his entire body felt like it was being set ablaze. 

He tensed his shoulder, fighting at the blinding pain as he tried to scoot his hand closer to the bed’s edge. Before Peter could get very far Tony recognized the action, wrapping the smaller, thinner hand in his own. 

“You’re gonna be okay, kid. It’s just another set back. We’re gonna handle it.” Peter closed his eyes, letting the tears seep through. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He’d been so close to getting out of the med bay, with it’s annoying beeping and antiseptic smell that made his senses go bezerk. In that moment, it felt like it was never going to end. 

\---

The days passed slowly. Peter slept in short spurts, and never restfully. When he was awake his entire body was in searing hot agony. Once they tried giving him a pain medication only to have it backfire, the pain increasing ten fold. 

Tony was always there, sleeping only when Peter did. Often people would join the older man. Pepper, who would smooth his hair back and tell him stories of Morgan to make him forget. Natasha, who’s russian lullabies were the only thing guaranteed to lull the boy to sleep. 

Wanda was Peter’s favorite, because she was the only real pain reliever they could give him. Using her powers to put him somewhere else in his mind, allowing him to drift away for a little while. But Wanda could only keep it up for so long, and the effect left him feeling hazy and nauseated for the rest of the day. So most of the time, he was forced to just sit with his burning, useless body. 

May stade when she could, but Peter could see the drain of himself on her face. The way her eyes grew dark and sad when she looked at him. They had all the same love they’d always had, but something new was held there. Peter recognized it as the same way she looked at Ben’s grave; as if Peter were already dead. Secretly, he was always relieved when she left, and she seemed to know that too.

It was almost his birthday when the ventilator finally came out. 

“Okay, I need you to do your best to relax the muscles in your throat.” The doctor instructed, and Peter was certain she’d never had a tube down her esophagus before. Relaxing was utterly impossible. All the same, he tried. “Alright, here we go.”

She’d barely pulled when Peter’s body took over as he choked and gagged. Tony was forced to hold the boy’s head down with his vibranium hand, profusely apologizing the entire time.

But just like that, it was over, and Peter took his first unassisted breath. It was shallow and shaky, but nothing had ever felt so good. Peter smiled, his muscles unrestricted by the tube snaking down his throat. 

“Can you try saying something for me, Peter?” He swallowed, trying to wet his vocal chords, which grated against each other. He looked at Tony, who was beaming.

“Love you.” His voice cracked and the words were barely audible, but they’d been said. Tony smiled back, tears welling in his eyes.

“Love you too, kid.” He stroked Peter’s hair away from his face. 

“Excellent.” The doctor marked something down on a chart. “Sorry again for having to do that conscious, Peter.” He shrugged, unused to the possibility of giving a verbal answer. 

“Can, I-” Peter coughed, swallowing several times to wet his throat before trying again. “Can I get the feeding tube taken out now?” She gave him a sympathetic smile that made Peter want to scream.

“Your stomach isn’t quite ready for that, Peter. I’m so sorry.” Obliging as ever, Peter tried to give her a smile. 

“It’s okay.” Tony wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulder, ruffling his hair a little. 

“You don’t gotta say that, Pete. It sucks.” Peter laughed a little dryly.

“Yeah, it does.” 

“The good news,” The doctor continued. “Is that without the ventilator in, you’ll be able to resume physical therapy.” The joy of having the tube removed from his throat suddenly drained from Peter’s face.

“You mean completely start physical therapy over.” 

“Pete,” Tony began an attempted reasoning, which was quickly cut off by the doctor.

“No, Peter’s right, Tony” The boy’s eyes shot up at the words, wide in shock. No one had been this honest about anything since the accident. She turned to talk to him. “This is going to be even harder than when we first started. You have gone one step forward to take two steps back. Recovery is going to be long, painful, and emotionally draining for you. It’s going to be hard for your loved ones as well.” She shot Tony a meaningful look. “But I’m not one to back down from a challenge, and you don’t strike me as someone who would, either. So what do you say, Peter? We’ll start from scratch, revamp your recovery plan, and get this done. You with me?”

Peter could practically feel the two adults holding their breath. Waiting to see if Peter would go for it. After a long pause, he gave a hesitant smile. 

“Yeah. I’m with you.” 


End file.
